


Need To Survive

by Sonny



Series: SongFics [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Challenge Response, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-03
Updated: 2003-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:45:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian and Michael have a fight that may have destroyed their friendship; How do both men deal with the aftermath? Write the story around the song "Forgive Me"  By Evanescence ; Michael laments about Brian in his childhood bedroom; How do you find the right amount of *I'm sorry*s to beg forgiveness...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much love & respect to DoT/Kris for handing me the Challenge- She knows my *weakness*- Thank Yous simply aren't enough; To my lover-ly friends on the B/M Yahoo Message Board... THIS is how it SHOULD be...

** **FORGIVE ME** **_By Evanescence_** **  
** _Words & Music By Ben Moody/Amy Lee_**  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
****************************  
 _ **Can you forgive me again?**_  
 _ **I don't know what I said**_  
 _ **But I didn't mean to hurt you**_  
*********************************

  
It’s like dying and being reborn in the same day. Stepping back from the past and foraging on to a future you’ve been denying yourself simply to save face. It’s like waking up from a long dream and realizing that reality hasn’t sucked for quite some time. You only forgot that sometimes, the things you thought you wanted most, were already the things you had.

I didn’t understand, why after six days of doing nothing but going to work and semi-existing in my childhood bedroom, that suddenly I would hit upon an important fact that had been in existence. I had thought different. Finding out I had been wrong had sparked me into action. I should have done this years ago.

Thirty-three years after my childhood room was still standing and I finally found the nerve to pack up all my shit and get the fuck out. Growing up didn’t feel like a chore anymore. I was done with the utter debacle that accounted for my love life. Not that the men I had loved; genuinely and deeply, hadn’t been every dream incarnated, but they brought *baggage* with them that could topple a small country. And that became a bit much for me to cope with, for little ole me.

If I truly sat down and thought about my relationships with David and Ben, I could pinpoint moments when I turned a corner. A corner I never would have taken had I not wanted to mature and grow away from sentimentality. I was part of the Real World. I had to change or ruin the best men that had come into my life. In a way, I had to seriously *work* at making them love me.

I know that sounds weird, but let me explain.

David had been in a seven year relationship with Mac, who died from complications from AIDs. They were a committed couple. Before that David had led a heterosexual marriage in disguise and produced a son, Hank. When I came into David’s life, he wasn’t truly *looking* for a summer fling or a quickie romance. He was fuckin’ ready to pack-n-shack up together with whomever he met next. I admit that wasn’t what I was looking for. I was still bonded to Brian and going out to Woody’s and Babylon until all hours of the night. I didn’t know if that would be well accepted by a permanent *boyfriend* in my life. I was trying to save someone some unneeded misery. I quickly found out that David was expecting me to turn my life over to him as quickly as I could. Shit! I was fuckin’ up my own life. I didn’t need his nose buttin’ into my stuff, as well. Ma was enough!

Ben was a different hill to climb. His own HIV+ health status left him attempting to make sure I was *ready*. Man, even if I was ready to have a sexual relationship with a Positive man, would that still stop the fear from entering my belly? Shit! Every gay man has some hang-up about their sexual partner. I know it sounds like I’m belittling HIV, but I’m not. I think Ben still has this *thing* about being with a partner who doesn’t share his troubles. He’s a beautiful, brilliant, and witty man, but sometimes it makes you wonder if being constantly *perfect* is really a downer, of sorts. Pretty can become boring if you stare long enough. And being nice, sweet and kind never got anyone anywhere.

I can attest to that.

I’m still unsure about Ben’s past with the man he claims infected him. Ben gets a little secretive when I ask about him. I don’t bother with it, much, because he allows me a certain space with Brian. Ben’s got this penchant for *looking good* in the physical sense that leaves me scared for his mind and health. The steroid abuse took the cake for me. Brian’s melodramatic attempt to get me to talk to Ben left me unsure how serious this was becoming. I’m glad Brian pushed me as far as he did. I didn’t want to see myself in an abusive relationship.

Okay, now that I’ve complained about my boyfriends, about their *baggage*, I know one has to wonder if Brian Kinney doesn’t have the largest collection of emotional baggage this side of the Pacific Ocean. But there was a familiarity with Brian, that I never got to have with David or Ben. I had to have my arm twisted, some weird push forward, in order to have a relationship with them. Brian gave me the space I needed to figure his life on my own.

I didn’t know the truth about Jack Kinney until almost too late. I guess I didn’t want to believe it. Daddies didn’t hit. Fathers never got angry at the sons they loved. I saw a darker world with Brian that blew my glowing fantasies about Fathers out of the water. Maybe I had been lucky. I could have had a Dad like Jack. Surviving vicariously through Brian was enough. I don’t think I would have made it, like Brian did.

It might have taken me a few years, but I knew that Kinney psyche like the back of my hand. Why couldn’t I just leave well enough alone? Stop, pause and realize I had enough to deal with taking care of Brian. Maybe it was my need to save the world, one life at a time. I don’t know. All I know is that I probably had this backlog of information that I could use against Brian at any moment in time.

I hated fighting, of any kind. I wasn’t good at it, not like some people. I never had snappy comebacks, always finding better words to say two or three days later. I was too emotional and sensitive to actually carry out a real fight. That’s why Brian had become my *protector* with school bullies. I hadn’t really made him DO anything, Brian simply took over the responsibility. I didn’t see any reason why I should step in when Brian knew exactly what to do.

This time though, the fight was between us. Brian has hit me before, but nothing hurt me worse then the verbal jabs we’d thrown at one another. A bruise to the eye can heal much better then words spewed in hate and anger.

I knew we had gone too far when I said those words I never thought would come out of my mouth. Words once used by Jack Kinney. I wanted to die, knowing I could have caused Brian more anguish then necessary. That’s why I hugged him, frantically, before I exited his townhouse. It was the beginning of my *forgiveness*.

But I don’t think any word can be said to tell him that I hadn’t truly meant them. No amount of *I’m sorry*s could fill a numb void created by those words. Especially when they come out of the one mouth you never expected to hear them from.

*****************************  
 _ **I heard the words come out**_  
 _ **I felt that I would die**_  
 _ **It hurt so much to hurt you**_  
 _ **Then you look at me**_  
 _ **You're not shouting anymore**_  
 _ **You're silently broken**_  
******************************

  
Those eyes of his closed, but I knew what they looked like. Broken and shattered, just like that photographic frame in the fireplace I found.

Brian had come to my bed. THIS twin bed plenty of nights after Jack and he had fought for hours. Jack would ground his son, sending him to his room with no supper. Brian always found a way to sneak out of his window, out into the night and creep along to my house. I’ve patched up many of Brian’s hurts and *boo-boo*s, but I knew there was no medicine, no salve, no possible way to stop the pain I had caused.

I said them. Brian grew quiet and solemn. He knew what he had made me do to him. His silence became deafening, worse then swearing and screaming at me. I would have rather taken another punch to my eye. There was nothing I could do or say to make it all better.

His voice softly commanded that I leave. What worried me was if he meant simply for the night or from his life completely. That’s what had created the ache in me to begin with.

I wanted him to call me back, so badly. When he held me as I collapsed in his arms, cradling me close and sobbing his nickname for me, I thought he’d call me back.

He let me go... and I thought that was the end of... our friendship... and my life...

********************************************************************  
 ** _I'd give anything now_**  
 ** _To hear those words from you_**  
 ** _Each time I say something I regret I cry "I don't want to lose you."_**  
 ** _But somehow I know that you will never leave me, yeah._**  
********************************************************************

  
I don’t know that either of us could find the words to apologize for that night. Both of us knew each other was wrong. But you know how sometimes you can be so angry, lost in a feeling, begin to say words you never thought possible and there’s no simple way to go back. Take back everything you said or did to cause the damage done. Maybe that would be the beauty of it. Knowing that we hurt each other mutually and that both of us we’re trying to find words to beg our forgiveness.

I guess that I had forgotten a very important fact. *Sayin’* one thing is much different then *Doin’*. The belief factor is slim to none, heavy on the none.

That old tape recording of Brian singing was like a beacon of light shining my way through the bleakness. I got this flash of revelation.

Wanting and needing were two separate entities.

You could talk yourself out of a *want*. Leaving work one day, you’re moving along craving steak for dinner. You’re racking your brain for the perfect restaurant that will make the steak the way you want it, not marring the perfection by undercooking or burning the meat. By the time you reach home, you’re walking through the door with some random fast food cheeseburger. Because when you REALLY thought about it, there’s was too much hassle in that steak. Maybe you had to dress nicely and you were in a t-shirt and jeans, which would make you have to run back home to change. Or maybe you didn’t have money left from bills and grocery shopping that would allot you enough to pay for a $24 steak dinner. Or you might have come home to find that none of your friends wanted to go out to eat. It seemed like a fun night to simply *chill* at home.

So you walk through your front door, paper bag in hand, carrying that random fast food cheeseburger you picked up. See... you kind of, sort of... had your steak, just chopped beef in a round shape on a bun, with fries and a shake. But you managed to save money, you didn’t have to shower and change and you’re home. No hassles whatsoever.

A *want* could be relieved by rechecking all the other ways you could get what you already knew you had.

A *need* was a bit tougher to fulfill, but it could be done.

*********************************  
 _ **‘Cause you were made for me**_  
 _ **Somehow I'll make you see**_  
 _ **How happy you make me**_  
 _ **I can't live this life**_  
 _ **Without you by my side**_  
 _ **I need you to survive**_  
*********************************

  
A *need* was similar to a craving. Craving was a feral, gut-wrenching feeling. Only seeming to become satiated once that NEED was filled.

I need Brian. He does make me happy, despite all those bumps along the road to our eventual companionship. I do know that I won’t have to worry that he will totally exit my life. I might piss him off, he’ll need his space, but I know that should things go bad in my life, I can pick up the phone and he’ll BE THERE. I can always count on him, even if people assume he can’t be.

They don’t know how wrong they are and I’m really tired of trying to show them. I have to let that part of my regime go. I have to let people find out for themselves, what I already know. You can trust Brian. You CAN believe in him.

I know that I need Brian, the more I get older. Not because we seem attached at the hip, but because I don’t know any other way to be, then WITH HIM. I’m good at it, better then anything I’ve done in my sad, pathetic life. I proudest of him and our friendship. I’m proudest of all that he agreed to help Lindsay and Melanie have Gus.

I always believed that Brian would become a better man knowing he was a father. And he’s not letting me down. Cripes! He’s trying. He’s trying so hard to be what Jack wasn’t, but he’s also trying much harder to show that he can’t be hoodwinked by some cocky, adorable toddler. Even if Gus has most of Brian’s good DNA.

I’m getting insight into how Brian possibly looked in his childhood, attempting to cling to a father who never wanted him and a frightened mother who forgot how to love. I never told Brian this, but I loved Gus the moment we heard the news that Linds was pregnant. I loved the Little Man because he was a part of Brian.

Loving Brian made it easy to fall in love with just the idea of Gus. When he finally was born, that was another story. Justin had arrived, as well and the confusion to WHO was actually Brian’s son more became my own struggle.

I had thought Brian and I would share in the sweetness of his baby boy. Babysit, go on picnics, take him to the park, run around with Gus on the playground, push him on the swing and share in the *Daddy* role. Instead, we had to shoulder the teen-angst filled drama of Justin Taylor along with Baby Gus. I don’t hate Justin, I simply wish he would have entered our lives much later, like after he had become infatuated with someone else other then Brian.

Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m jealous. I already said I loved Brian. Justin was trying to make his moves on my *man*. Sure I played it off like I didn’t have any hold on him, but that was because I knew better then to pull young twinks away from Brian when he already had his teeth sunk in their delicate skin. The *conquest* was part of Brian’s battle schemes. In a freakish way, I liked seeing how easily they crumbled under his power. It was flawless, pure poetry in motion.

I only hated the moments when Brian followed through on the sex, either in Babylon’s back room or back at the loft. I hated myself for wanting to be that *twink*. I hated the possibility that Justin was actually a substantial opponent. He’d gotten beyond many boundaries that Brian used with every young man he’d slept with and discarded. Maybe there was something likable about Justin, but I couldn’t afford to feel easy with him. Brian was his first love and first loves are hard to get over. I can understand that.

I couldn’t take the chance that I’d befriend Justin and he’d go behind my back, messing in my happiness. I wished him well, because apparently, he and Brian were over for good.

Ma couldn’t wait to spew her venom in my ear over that shit! Harping on the things Brian had done to break Boy Wonder’s heart. I tried hard to hold back the yawns of boredom. Join the crowd, Blondie!

Justin didn’t have the strength to compete with the bond that’s been between Brian and I. We tried to tell him, but you can’t make anybody do anything they don’t want to do. Even if it will save them eventual heartache. People sometimes learn more when they fall on their faces by their own doing. Who am I to stop them?

But, I guess, Justin is taking the separation well, so it seems. Ben and I had caught him plenty of nights in Babylon, fitting perfectly into Brian’s old place of infamy.

************************************************************  
 _ **So stay with me**_  
 _ **You look in my eyes and I'm screaming inside that I'm sorry.**_  
 _ **And you forgive me again**_  
 _ **You're my one true friend**_  
 _ **And I never meant to hurt you**_  
************************************************************

  
I never mean to hurt Brian. I know it can be the only way to motivate him to do something.

But it has taken me all these twenty years of knowing Brian Kinney to know, finally, that he’s doin’ something even when he’s silent. There’s subtleness to his emotions. They creep up on you when you least expect them. When you think your life has gone to shit and the world is laughing right in your face.

I’m ALL about the *words*. I have to hear them to know they’re true. I’m scared that I’m gonna come home to an empty bed and an empty life. I’m scared of growing old alone and lonely without anyone who loves me. What I never knew was that I was loved already, I just needed to learn to cope with how Brian felt he should convey the words to me.

I wanted the romance, the thrill and the passion. I wanted to hear those three words.

 ****I Love You****

But as I cleaned out my old room, I realized that Brian had shown me his love too many times to count. I wasn’t listening closely enough. Every time he touched me. Every time he cuddled with me on this puny twin mattress. Every time he kissed me. Every time he said the name *Mikey*. Every tear he shared with me. Every moment he laughed until he wanted to puke.

No one had given him the tools to make sure once he said the words, he’d be guaranteed the *right* to feel safe enough to set his soul free. Jack had suffocated the comfortableness of love right from Brian’s lungs. Saying the words had never made Brian’s parents stop hating him, or his sister from loathing him.

*I love you* had become a sketchy word-age that most people took back years later. Even the best marriages couldn’t last on love alone.

Why hadn’t I seen that Brian loved me the best that he could?

I could *talk* big words, make Brian feel like a complete shit, but I was lousy in the follow through. I always made myself look like such a fuckin’ hypocrite

Maybe because I knew that if Brian loved me he never would have asked me to give up my child. Like Ben had done.

That was my one reason for helping Brian move, six days ago. I had needed someone to talk to, other then in my own head. Someone with an objective voice. I know Brian had his misgivings about Ben, but I knew he’d be able to tell the shit to me straight, without pulling punches. Maybe he’d side with me, slightly, calling Ben names that I’d done for days.

I didn’t see the turmoil already on the surface of Brian’s face. He was going through his own change, but I was too wrapped in my own worries to bother asking what were his. He’d been preoccupied the minute I’d called him...  


 

 **~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~** **  
**

**  
**

**Flashback - SIX DAYS AGO...  
MICHAEL CALLS BRIAN DURING WORK...**

  
**I called Brian from the comic store. I was gonna take a few hours off of work to come help him meet the moving van. I wanted to help unpack some of the boxes and arrange the furniture the way Brian wanted his belongings to look.**

Something told me to take caution. I’d had some heavy conversations lately that simply rubbed me wrong. Ben’s refusal to be a part of anything connected to my child. Ma’s incessant need to relay information with me about Justin and what an asshole Brian was. Then when I thought I would have some relief from all the hoopla, Melanie begins to suspect Brian’s been *talking* to me, about our daughter.

I can only assume Ma has put this *bug* in her ear that Brian might be influencing me about stepping back from all this attention I was giving the baby. I couldn’t help it, everywhere I went my daughter was on my mind. On sudden impulses I bought stuff for her that made no sense. Clothes, toys, books and it drove Ben crazy. Every word out of my mouth seemed to be laced with her presence.

Ben was having a hard time coping, because the moments I was giving to my daughter were taking me away from OUR time as a couple. With my mind in constant flow, I always wondered what she would be like once she was born. Ben could barely stomach one more *baby story*.

I must admit I did understand his desire to not be involved, but if we were to remain as boyfriends, he had to know that I couldn’t simply walk away, not be a functioning parental figure in my daughter’s upbringing.

Okay fine, Ben couldn’t have children of his own, but why did that have to mean I should give up mine?

I know Ben hadn’t come right out and requested I abandon my child, but it’s really kind of hard to be happy about the idea, talk about her future in my life, when the one person who was supposed to be by my side was never there to talk this over with. I didn’t want to lose Ben, but I wasn’t the one disappearing to the gym and teaching a night class three days a week.

Before I arrived at Brian's, I stopped off to pick up an array of take-out food; Chinese, pizza, chicken, and sandwiches. Who knew if we’d get massively hungry after working so hard, or the chance that the movers wouldn’t like a snack or two. I dropped by the nearby video store, picking up two movies. I don’t know why I chose the titles I did. I really wasn’t in the mood for plot driven stories that required me to feel something. I was feeling emotional enough already.

While I had been out shopping, I did nothing but think about Brian and I, our friendship together. One thing that rang true to me was that Brian would NEVER make me cut myself off from my baby. He was just as interested in meeting her, probably feeling like I did about Gus. Brian was being exactly how I needed Ben to be. When I gave Brian that sonogram of her little growing body inside Melanie’s uterus, something *clicked* in his head. SHE was real. My child would be part of this world in under one month. The words I had inscribed on that stupid white card was what had come to my mind the second I saw her on the monitor, moving about. I had wished that Brian could have been there in the x-ray room, with Mel and I. Instead, I cried, along with Mel, and ached to have Brian near.

Since the day I gave Brian that photograph his life had taken a swift turn. He bought that townhouse in under 24hrs. I was flabbergasted by the amount of space he’d chose to have. He had told me some filler story about Gus needing his own bedroom, maybe guests coming to visit. I didn’t know many people Brian would invite over for sleep overs. Maybe Emmett or Ted but that was a slim chance. Or maybe Lindsay and Melanie. I didn’t know what he was trying to convey.

Brian did mention something about me and my daughter possibly coming to visit, but it sounded more like an afterthought. I didn’t expect him to keep his promise. I wasn’t gonna harp on his social life with me AND a baby. I couldn’t get it out of my head that he sounded so sincere about the idea. He even offered to watch her should I need to get away with Ben.

That’s when a *light* turned on in my head. Could Brian possibly be trying to say something else? Something I’d been dreaming about for years?

That was my other reason for coming to help him unpack. I wanted to know where I stood with him. If he could easily accept my child into his new life... was I NOT far behind?

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

**MICHAEL ARRIVES AT BRIAN’S...:**

  
**I had no idea what I would be faced with once I arrived, but the second I saw his face, I knew... felt it beginning to burn inside of me... that I would do anything I could to make sure I was a part of Brian’s future. In whatever capacity he needed from me. Ben could go to Hell.**

I was nervous. My palms sweaty as I dropped the plastic bags of take-out food on the pristine cream marbled kitchen counters. It was a different kind of feeling then I’d ever felt around Brian. Granted he always set my stomach to fluttering, but I couldn’t help knowing we were coming at some *crossroads* in our relationship. There was going to be a change in our friendship.

When I pressed a kiss to his cheek, Brian immediately tried to divert his head. Or try to end the lingering pressure of my lips. That’s when I should have asked him what was wrong. Instead, I followed him back out to help unload all the boxes, the few pieces of furniture Brian had kept and the bundles of designer clothing for his closet.

At one point I had caught him digging through a small trunk, sitting on his bare living room hardwood floor. It looked in piss-poor shape, so I don’t know why Brian had held onto it, like a security blanket. The movers had been a tad rough with the trunk and it had tipped over knocking some items on the floor. Brian had sent the men back outside, telling him he’d take care of the mess.  
   
“What in the hell is all this? Where did you find this piece of shit?” I crept on over, crouching down to help shuffle everything into a decent pile. A mixture of photos, papers and keepsake trinkets, usually saved for scrapbook purposes, littered the area. This was an odd thing for Brian to have. “Hey! I made this in our sophomore year. Why do you still have it?” I held the ceramic crappy designed item toward him.

Brian swiped it out of my hands in a flash. “This was in the basement storage bin, at the loft. And for your information, YOU made this for ME. I used it a lot during that sophomore year.” He was beginning to look over each item intently, replacing them in the battered trunk as if they were made of precious glass.

Brian wasn’t sentimental about stuff like that, so why had he held onto all of this? “Brian, we can buy a new trunk at, like, Pier 1 Imports. They’ve got better wicker items then this one. It looks like you’ve been duct taping every time something falls off.”

“Leave it alone, Mikey. It’s perfect the way it is.”

I held up my hands defensively. “Sorry. I didn’t know you’d become so attached.”

“Mikey, you’re complaining about MY sentimentality. Your whole apartment is littered with childhood stuff. Things you’d be better off letting go of. You should start cleaning up to make room for Benji and you, making room for your own memories as a couple and soon-to be Daddies. You can't have all that loose shit floating around with an active baby in the room.”

Now, why would Brian have said something like that if he hadn’t been wondering about me and the choices I was making in my life? I sat down, Indian style, hoping I wouldn’t fuck-up what I had to say?

“How would you feel about that, Brian?”

“About what? You and Ben? Or you, Ben and the baby?”

“About it all?” I didn’t know why I wanted to talk about this now, but it had been plaguing me for days. I had questions that needed to be answered before I took my next big step. I already had some idea of what I needed to do, for my own happiness. I had to be sure I wasn’t going to infringe on Brian’s plans for his own life.

Brian was putting the last of the things back in the trunk. “What’s on your mind, Little One?”

I noticed Brian’s adorable side grin, before his eyes became transfixed on some bundles of paper he’d found buried deep inside. I should have stopped there, asking him what he found, but I was too lost in what I needed to know. I pressed on. “It has everything to do with Ben and I. The baby, too, but in some odd way you’ve managed to slip right on in there. Ben’s been weird about the baby. He hasn’t told me outright to let go of her, let Linds and Mel take care of her. But he might as well have said so. I know this sounds pathetic, but I need to know what to do. I’m confused. There doesn't seem to be anywhere for me to go.” I lifted my head, glancing at Brian, who was staring in the trunk, reading whatever he was looking at. “Brian, are you listening?”

“Wha-?” Brian’s head quickly perked up. His eyes staring directly at me.

I should have realized they looked right through me, but I was too eager to get what I needed to say out. “The only place I knew I could come was to you. Like always, right?” I stressed the *right* thinking Brian had heard everything I was saying. His easy nod made me continue. “I can’t help but feel we’ve both come to this point in our lives where we are ready to make a change. I can tell you now, I hope that change will make you and I come closer, maybe closer then we’ve ever been. Is that something that you’d like to happen between us? I can tell you I’m willing to adjust my life any way you see me. I have to know what role you need me to play in your life... I...”

A commotion coming from the front door sounded. The movers were struggling to carry in an awkward piece of furniture.

“HELP! Can we get some HELP here??!!”

As both Brian and I stood, he reached over to cup my shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later, okay. When there’s no pesky ears listening.” He shuffled over to see where the extra hand would go to help the men.

Though I was upset by the disturbance, I understood. It was bad timing on my part.

We didn’t get a chance to do much talking, which was a good thing. We worked hard to empty the moving van. Brian wanted to send the workers on their way. He thought we could handle what was left inside the house.

Once we were left alone, I was carrying the last box inside, bumping the door closed with my backside. I saw Brian coming down the stairs. “I think this is it, Brian. Where do you want THIS?"

He wandered over to peek inside. I saw that it was full of papers and manila files. “Second floor. First door on your left. There are some other boxes with papers grouped for the file cabinets."

I set the awkward box down on the surface of the oblong table, where the dining room was going to end up. "So... now that we’re alone, what are your thoughts? What do you think I should do?"

Brian appeared bewildered. "About what?"

"What I asked you, over fifteen minutes ago. I was talking right at you, while you unpacked that trunk in the living room. I thought you needed to think it over. I was giving you time, until the movers left." I held open my arms, asking what else he expected me to do. We had just discussed this only a few minutes ago.

Maybe I should have repeated the words, but it had taken a lot out of me to say them earlier. I didn’t know he had been in his own world of trouble, figuring out things.

"I guess I wasn’t paying attention." Brian shrugged his nonchalance at my disbelief.

"What?" I felt dejected and lost. I had spoken words, heartfelt, and he’d been tuning me out. "You were looking RIGHT at me." My voice cracked in frustration.

"Michael, I've got other things on my mind then your problems. I can barely get through my own."

WHOA! Where had THAT come from??!!

 

 **==========tbc...==========**


	2. Chapter 2

**My frustration level took over. I had come to him looking for his shoulder, that was always available, but was rejected. My heart sped up in shock.**

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bother to you." I huffed out, about ready to turn and leave.

Brian made a grab for my arm. "Hey, stop! Come on! Tell me again. I promise to listen this time. What was it about?"

I tried to yank out of his tight grip. "Ben... what’s been happening to US... and OUR possible future together."

I knew something was happening between me and Brian, to US. I wanted there to be a possible future for Brian and I, with our children.

"Christ! What makes you think I’d even have an ounce of interest for that bullshit!!?? I don’t want to be a part of this charade! Tell Benji to either shit or get off the pot, already! You both *love* each other, why not put an end to the misery? You two deserve one another." Brian looked in some random box, found a few things and walked into the pristine white space, of the kitchen.

I lost my breath, once or twice, not realizing what was just bellowed at me.

 _ ****What makes you think I’d even have an ounce of interest for that bullshit?****_   - **Brian was calling OUR friendship, our possible relationship... BULLSHIT!!??  
**  
 ** _**I don’t want to be a part of this charade!**_**   - **Had I totally driven Brian away from me, as I continued to carry on my relationship with Ben? Was our friendship the *charade*? Or was he talking about something else?  
**  
 _ ****... put and end to the misery****_   - **Had I caused Brian that much difficulty that I had made him miserable?**

 _ ****You two deserve one another.****_   - **I deserved a man in my life who was going to make me exclude myself from my child’s life?  
**  
 **Not knowing what Brian had meant, I had to ask questions from my gut-feelings.**

"Is that how you REALLY feel?" My voice sounded far away and warbled. My heart was cracking it’s surface.

Brian stepped back. His pride was inflating more and more. It looked as if he was reverting back to the old habits of not caring one iota for how people felt. I felt like whatever I did, or said, beyond this point was moot.

"Why do you even care how I feel about it, at all, Mikey?"

It felt like a sledgehammer had whacked some sense into me. I began to learn how foolish I was becoming. Brian wasn’t changing FOR me. He was changing BECAUSE of me. That pissed me off. I never knew he’d want so badly to grow apart from my side.

“You know... you are so fuckin’ right!! How the hell would YOU know anything about being a *father* when you consider your childhood and how you’ve neglected your own son. You do recall that you have one, right?" I stomped off, out into what was going to be the living room, near the windows and fireplace. I had placed my jacket over the pile of boxes.

From the flabbergasted look in his hazel eyes, I knew we hadn’t met each other at all in our conversation. We were both off kilter. “What the fuck does that mean?" He followed me out, watching as I slipped my arms in the jacket sleeves.

“I think you’re brilliant enough to figure it out on your own. After all, you did graduate college with a degree, while I dropped out. I’m only the stupid fool you’ve been making fun of for years." Now, I was simply rambling until I could exit with a meager ounce of pride left. I don’t know, it still hurt so much to know I had been ignored.

"Where the HELL did you get THAT idea from? So I don’t want to get involved in you and Ben having a lover’s spat. Fuckin’ get a grip on yourself! God Damn!" Brian placed his hands on his hips. "If you feel that way about me... what the fuck are you doing here? Why aren’t you *gone* already?" He barked down at me. His breath blew in tufts on my face.

I had to blink, stepping back at the unbelievability of it all. My heart was slowly breaking, piece by piece. Things could not have gotten any worse.

“I’m way ahead of you on that one, Kinney!" I straightened my bent collar, shucking my coat cuffs over my wrists.

But I couldn’t leave for anything. I wanted to hold him close. I dipped my head, holding back the tears. I could feel my face grow flush as I tried to look anywhere in the room but at Brian. I sniffed once, wiping underneath my nose with my cuff. My eyes widened, picking sight of something in the distance. My eyes zeroed in on the familiar picture.

“Brian... what happened to the picture?" Like those shattered pieces of broken glass, I felt my body begin to shake. Had Brian’s *happiness* over my baby been the charade, all this time?

“What pic-?" Brian’s head turned to see what lay in the empty fireplace. “Michael, I..." He looked completely shaken and destitute, like he had a good explanation, but he was protecting someone. Possibly someone who knew us both very well. “It fell."

"Yeah... with some help." Sighing heavily, I hadn't been able to look at Brian, but now I couldn't bear to be anywhere near him. I scoped a path around piles of boxes in order to make a clear way to the front door. "I suppose this means you've finally won."

"*Won* what?"

"That Jack was right all along." I hated what was running through my head. Sometimes I knew Brian could be a real shit, an asshole and a bastard, but I fuckin’ loved him. I adored every single inch of him. I guess that means what I feel for him must be real. If it hurt this much for me, then Brian would be going through fuckin’ Hell.

I noticed his Adam‘s Apple bob up-n-down, a nervous swallow. He closed his eyes, hoping to be able to ward off my next words. "Oh, yeah?"

I hooked my thumbs in the back pockets of my jeans, leaning back to look up at the high ceilings. “I’m wishing you had never been born, too." I shut my eyes. I could feel the tears falling down my cheeks. I wanted God to strike me dead for the comments coming out from my mouth. "I hate you for making me say that, Brian. I fuckin’ hate you more then I ever thought possible."

I was never this mean or hateful to anyone, even when people did me wrong. I wanted Brian to know how much I was suffering. I think I made my point.

“Get out." The command was given so softly, it took me a minute before I understood what he wanted me to do. I gladly took the offer.

“My pleasure." I choked out on a sob as I felt as if one side of my body was being torn from me. Brian was a *part* of me. Would always be a part of me. I was killing myself, right along with him.

An End to Our Friendship?

I could see Brian wavering on his feet, He wanted to run to me, hold me close in his arms and beg forgiveness. Things had gone too far. We needed space between us. For however long possible. I could barely move my feet. I watched him cover his mouth with his hand, pinching his lips. I didn’t want to see him this way, knowing it had been my fault. He was looking at my every move.

The front door was opened partly, but before I slipped out in shame, I lay the set of extra keys he made for me on the table. I paused, took a forced breath. I had no idea where to go. I sprinted back to Brian, jumping in his arms and collapsing within his strong hold.

I wanted salvation. I wanted to be forgiven. I needed Brian to know I loved him despite what had happened. I heard his throat blurt out a sob of such agony.

"Oh!... Mikey!"

I could feel Brian almost sinking to the floor. He’s never held me like this, with a weakening force, struggling to hang on with everything in him.

Even though we had spewed angry words at each other, I still felt his draw pulling me near. I vowed to love him until my dying day. It was better for me to let him go. What I could have with Ben didn’t compare to what potential I had with Brian.

What would I do without him in my life?

Flashes of past memories overtook me. I wanted to say so much, but the time was off. It wouldn’t matter what I did. But I couldn’t leave without kissing him. Making him aware that I was always going to think about him, even when we were apart. Cupping his perfectly square jaw line, I dragged his face close to mine and sank myself into his adoring mouth.

I disappeared before he got a chance to ever reopen his eyes.  
   
Christ Almighty! I wanted to die.. I wanted to be *dead* right then and there!  
  


**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
I reached out to touch my still tingling lips, like his essence was seared into my flesh. Brian always made me feel that way. Complete and broken. Frantic and whole. Like I couldn’t live without him, but strong enough to believe that I could cope.

I sat down on my bed, knowing what I had to do next. I had hurt the one person I loved the most for those people downstairs. The people who pretended to care for my happiness and welfare.

Couldn’t they see what they were doing to me? To him?

My childhood bedroom was practically empty. I had enough trash bags and boxes to send off to the Salvation Army or the Goodwill. All I knew was that I didn’t need them anymore. I was letting go of past fears. I was moving forward a changed man.

This room would make Ma a nice sewing room. She had continued to joke about that even while I was living here. Now it was time to let her have her house back. I wasn’t going to completely disappear from here, but I wasn’t going to allow Ma to keep me in my nice *box*, perpetually young and ignorant. Never allowed to grow up.

I was a new man. A man who would be willing to leave it all behind for the man he loved.

“Let’s get this thing started, huh, Novotny?!” I tried to talk myself into some courage. I picked up a garbage bag and one box. “You got someone waiting for you...”

I hoped, silently prayed, Brian would wait.

Wait forever if need be, I think. I wasn’t about ready to start this relationship off on the wrong foot. I had a promise to keep.

No one was going to stand in my way, anymore, from keeping that promise.

NO BODY!!  
 **  
**

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
There was complete silence as the guests sitting around the Novotny dinner table watched Michael trudge up and down the stairs. He was carrying boxes and garbage bags full of things. They didn’t know what.

Ben was the first to put down his napkin and get up. He walked over to the stair railing. “You need any help, babe?”

Michael was shuffling down the steps, plopping boxes on top of each other. “Nope. Thanks, Ben.”

On Michael’s way back up, Ben gripped the nearby forearm. “Hey! Are you sure?”

Patting Ben’s cheek, Michael smiled as sweetly as he could through his bitterness. “Yeah! I’m almost done anyway. I got it covered.”

Ben let his eyes trail after Michael, going back into his old bedroom. “Are you hungry? We still have some food left over.”

Michael came out of his room, dragging two garbage bags behind him. “Nah! I’m good. I had a late lunch.” Michael placed the bags along with the others. His chest was heaving slightly. He put his hands on his hips. “Man! It’s amazing how much shit you can find, when you’re actually looking.” Michael noticed a few more familiar faces coming up behind Ben’s shoulders.

Ben crossed his arms over his bulking chest. “What were you looking for?”

“Peace of mind.” Michael snickered out, his eyebrow drew up in good humor. “Links to the past I need to let go of...”

Uncle Vic came from behind Ben, pushing his way to the front. “Are you okay, son?” He walked closer, placing a gentle hand at the base of Michael’s neck, caressing the soft hairline. “Do you need to talk?”

Michael stared deeply into Vic’s intense eyes. “I’m all talked out, Vic. I think I got myself pretty squared away.”

The hand moved to cup the strong shoulder, rubbing the snug t-shirt material. “I’ll be here when, or if, you need me. Okay?!” At Michael’s leisurely nod, Vic dipped his head, expecting to be brought swiftly into those familiar, thoughtful arms. Instead, all he got was a short, curt pat on his back.

Something was VERY wrong.

“Thanks, Uncle Vic.” Michael turned his back and took the steps two at a time. Once he reached his room, he inhaled a long breath to calm himself. Whoa! That was hard to simply walk away from Vic, like that. He quickly wiped away the leakage of tears, from the corners of his eyes. _****Need to be strong, Michael****_ , he tried to encourage himself. _****You are made of steel****_.

Downstairs, Vic swallowed hard as he watched his nephew split as fast as his nimble feet could carry him. THAT had never happened before. He couldn’t think of anything HE had done to make Michael think of him as one of the bad guys. He spun on his heel, turning to face the rest of the Novotny dinner party. “You all should be ashamed of yourselves!” He stomped through the swarm of bodies, intent on seeking out the one responsible party who hadn’t come out of her faithful, protected kitchen.

Vic knew his sister. Knew her passions and her dislikes. Knew that she loved from her whole being, just like her son. But why did she always see fit to muck up Michael’s life? Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone? He threw down the cream and orange striped dishtowel in his hand, on the back of his chair. He squinted his eyes toward Debbie as she puttered about picking up dirty dishes and filling her Tupperware containers. “What did you do now, sis?!”

Debbie was dumping her red sauce into a separate container to give to Lindsay and Melanie to take home. “Get the dessert out of the fridge, Vic.”

Melanie was just about to waddle over to help out. She was getting tired of everyone coming to her rescue, leaving her to sit on her ass for long hours on end. “I can get it!”

Lindsay and Debbie both barked at Melanie. “SIT!”

Wide-eyed and innocent, Melanie sat in a nearby chair, like someone was playing *musical chairs*. “Woof!” She stuck her tongue out a little, acting overheated.

Lindsay chuckled lightly, almost losing her grip on the Tupperware. “Ooops! Sorry, Deb!”

“Nah, I think it’s a little wet. Hold it with this towel, Hon’.”

“Debbie!” Vic stood still, hand on the back rungs of his chair, the other hand on his hip. If Debbie was going to show him *attitude*, he could impersonate a *bitch*, as well. “I asked you a question.”

“I heard ya’. I’m not gonna reply when you’re actin’ all... uppity.”

“You think THIS is *uppity*?” Vic strutted over to the fridge to take out the pie and cake Debbie and he made. “I got news for you, dear... if you don’t go out there and speak to that boy, there’s no telling what kind of *uppity bullshit*’s gonna come from him.”

“What can I say that hasn’t already been said before?” Debbie licked her fingers of some spilt sauce.

The other guests trickled in to take their seats again. Ben, Ted and Emmett were quite hurt that Michel hadn’t come back down, but they didn’t race upstairs, either. Ben knew why Michael was acting the way he was, but his two oldest friends were clueless. Ben didn’t know if he should reveal the truth. He had come into this *family* on the coattails of Michael’s belief in their loving relationship. That they were *right* for each other. He didn’t want to create enemies at the moment.

Emmett sat, dumbfounded. He had no idea how to help Michael. This was a strange feeling for him. “What on earth has made him so...?”

Ted rose his brow in thought. “Distant?”

Lindsay leaned against the counter, washing her hands of red sauce. “Cold. Like he’s becoming Brian.”

Melanie snickered, trying to adjust her oblong body in the seat. She desperately wanted a piece of each, the pie AND the cake. “Great! That’s all we fuckin’ need is two of them.” She waited for someone to divvy up the plates and forks.

Vic was barely paying attention to what anyone was saying. He watched his sister grow suspicious, looking toward the darkened foyer where the front door was. She KNEW exactly what she had done. Michael must have found out. He had no idea if mother and son shared words.

“Okay!” Michael had slipped on his jacket, strolling into the kitchen. “Ma, here’s what’s in the bags and boxes. I put labels on them, marking them. I think you’ll be able to get a good deal on dropping them off on whomever you see fit. The hospice, the homeless, Salvation army, the war veteran homes... I don’t need this shi-... stuff... anymore.” He sent a wink toward Melanie. He didn’t want to say *swear words* around his kid, even if she was simply in the womb. He held out the intricate list he’d written to his mother. “Ma? Here, take this.” She wouldn’t turn around from the counter. “Did you hear me?”

Debbie was finding the counter top extra dirty. “What about Ben?”

Michael shrugged his shoulders. “What about him, Ma? Ben and I are old enough to handle this ourselves. He and I will talk later.” He shoved the paper at her arm. “Take. This.” He felt like shoving it right under her arrogant nose.

Using the counter to lean back on, Debbie splayed her hands and arms behind her. “What does THIS mean? You think THIS is gonna make him want you? Love you? The way you deserve?”

Michael knew his mother would be this way. Lately, she was too full of pride about something that she had done. Something that she had *taken care of*. All Michael knew was that Brian seemed to be the ONLY person NOT telling him how to live his life. That Little Mikey was perfect the way he was.

Well, it was time for *Mikey* to learn a harsh lesson. Sometimes you have to let go in order to fly on your own. And this was gonna be Michael’s first *solo* flight, with no one’s advice, and opinions, hammering in his ears.

Michael shook his head, sad that his mother was so stuck on hating Brian. Christ! Maybe she even hated him, her own son, just a little. Neither of them were perfect like her ever-glowing Sunshine. “THIS... isn’t for Brian, Ma. It’s for me. It’s ALWAYS been about me. Everything done for ME. Everything sacrificed for ME. You lied for ME, so many times, Ma. I’m grateful for your help, but it’s time you stopped meddling...”

“When have ***I*** ever meddled... lately?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. The room is empty. The closet is empty. Maybe one day, a few weeks from now, once you’re in better spirits... I’ll take down that wallpaper and put up some decent curtains. Remember, you’ve wanted a sewing room for so long?” Michael walked over to his mother, grabbed her shoulders and tried to work the *anger* out of her. “Cheer up, buttercup! It’s time you started living for yourself, Ma.” This time he set the list on the counter, patted his mother’s cheek and turned to approach Ben.

“Where are you going?” Debbie sputtered out, tears at the surface of her eyes.

Michael put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. He grinned at his mother. “Like I have to tell you. Don’t you already know?” He lent down to whisper in Ben’s ear and quickly exited. He motioned to Melanie that he’d *call her*, later, demonstrating with his pinky and thumb.

Debbie crossed her arms over her ample chest, shaking her head at how easily Michael slipped out of her hands. She knew this day would come. She wasn’t expecting it so soon. “I hope he knows he’s in for nothin’ but disappointment. That boy is so disillusioned, right now.” She shook her head at how children never listened to their  
mothers.

Lindsay took her seat next to Melanie. “I know we all know exactly WHO Michael is going to, but isn’t that a little harsh? For Brian, I mean? When did he suddenly become this Devil Incarnate.”

Jerking drawers open to find her cake cutter and pie slicer, Debbie proudly boasted about some facts she knew about Brian Kinney. “He’s wormed his way into my son’s heart. Found his weakest link and... couldn’t wait to *pounce*.”

Ben pinched his lips. “What do you mean, Deb?”

Debbie realized she was talking too covertly. She hadn’t shared her information with the rest of the family. “Brian’s been chatting with Michael, whenever he gets a chance. Reminding him what it was like without a father, making Michael recall how bad Jack Kinney was. Brian has made Michael rethink his role in the baby’s life. I don’t care how much Brian Kinney has been hurt in the past, that doesn’t give him the right to fuck with my grandchild’s life!” She was handing out slices to everyone.

Ben lifted his eyes, not so sure Debbie had her facts straight. “You know this for certain? You heard him actually say these things? To Michael?”

Melanie nearly devoured her first piece of pie. “And we all know Brian.”

Ted snickered, in kind. “A little too well. No one escapes the Kinney web.”

Lindsay shook her head as she took her slice of cake. “I don’t know, Deb. Brian’s been changing ever since...”

Debbie used her utensil to make her point, slicing through the air, crumbs fell on the table cloth. “Brian Kinney will never change!” She went to cut a piece of dessert for Vic, but when she turned around to ask him which one he wanted, she was faced with a very angered and determined man. “Would you like...?”

Vic was intensely staring his sister down. “Count me out of your little Jim Jones ritual. I’ll leave before you start serving the killer Koolaid.”

A few eyes paused as they took bites of their dessert.

Debbie laughed off the minute of awkwardness. “Vic is only in a snit. I didn’t lace the pie with anything but good, old natural homemade ingredients.”

“Yeah, right... and a side of your *crow*.” Vic sputtered out in a huff.

Debbie was getting tired of Vic on her case. “What has climbed into your ass and died?”

“The foot that was in your mouth whenever you talked at Brian.”

Debbie sputtered out a puff of air. “I didn’t... I...” She looked to Melanie to keep quiet.

Melanie was too busy licking the last portion of decadence off her fork.  
   
“Don’t deny what you know you did!” Vic picked up his dishtowel to begin washing out the dirty dishes. “Eat the damn pie yourself! I’m full.”

Ben took the plate Debbie was gonna throw down on the table. “I got it!” He yanked it out of her loosening grip. “When did you talk to Brian, Deb?” As he set the plate down, he picked up his fork. He wondered if it was a good time to start eating, or should he simply throw the slice right down his lap, where he knew Debbie would put it once she knew the truth.

“Last week, sometime.” Debbie spoke to Ben as if in afterthought. “I’m not wrong about this, Vic. I’m tired of seeing that Kinney kid rip Michael’s self-esteem to shreds. Stepping over his shattered heart in order to fuck the next trick who comes around.”

“When are you gonna learn that it isn’t YOUR life to live??!! Didn’t I tell you, a few months back, that you’ve got to tone down your interference in their lives? They’re grown men, who obviously love one another... sorry, Ben... but you just keep on...” Vic used his hands to imitate a *bird* picking at something. “... pecking... and pecking until one of them bleeds and then you sit back on your haughty ass and gloat what a wonderful mother you are to have saved Michael the hurt. But look, Deb... look at what you’re stellar perception has done. Where’s your loving, attentive son, now? Huh? Tell me?”

“Shut up!” Debbie screeched at Vic, covering her ears. "Why are you being so mean!?”

“I’m not mean! I’m honest!”

Ben finally couldn’t stand anymore. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Cool it down! Acting this way is NOT gonna solve anything. Besides, Deb,... Vic’s right...”

His hands soaked in sudsy water, Vic waved his fingers about. “A-HA! You see! Someone who sees some sense in this!” He managed to splatter droplets of water over everyone. “Sorry.” He threw them a towel to pass around. He tried to quiet himself down, going back to scraping the dishes off.

“What do you mean, Ben? Who’s side are you on?!”

“No one’s! I’m trying to do what’s right. I can’t sit here any longer and let you bad mouth the wrong person!” Frustrations abound, Ben plopped down in his chair. “It’s me!”

Squinting her eyes, Debbie placed her fists on her hips. “What’s YOU?! And why the hell are you trying to stick up for Brian Kinney??!!”

“Brian isn’t the one who’s been talking to Michael.”

“Then who?” The three women bellowed at Ben.

Emmett sighed, tipping his hand over. “HELL-OH... Ben just said ‘It’s me!’.” He shook his head in utter shame.

Ted wiped his napkin over his mouth. “Thanks for the Instant Replay, Em!”

Debbie made a slick move for Ben’s plate, but his hand was faster. “Explain yourself.”

“Unhand the pie and I’ll tell you... And. I. Will. Enunciate. For. You.” Ben wasn’t going to allow Debbie to push him over, too.

Debbie shook herself free, her wrist actually tingling from blood loss. “Talk, kiddo!” She moved to sit herself at the other end of the table. “I got all the time in the world... and enough dessert to make you friggin’ sick.”

Emmett reached out a tender hand to cover Ben’s beefy one laying next to his fork. “I’m here for you, Benjam-...”

“Emmett!!” Debbie reprimanded Emmett for taking all of Ben’s valuable discussion time.

“Isn’t it nice to know I ain’t the ONLY *diva* at this table?!” Emmett talked in the air, finding this fact pretty funny. “Hmph!” From the side of his mouth, Emmett spoke to Ben. “Sorry, sweetie, I tried to stall, so you could run away.”

“Thanks.” Ben chuckled at Emmett’s hilarity at a terrible moment of complete silence.

When Ben looked up to begin, he suddenly realized the captive audience was glued to his every word.

Oh! Shit!  
 **  
**

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
Michael arrived back at Brian’s townhouse, the keys to his mother’s car in his pocket. Okay, so he hung onto ONE THING before he left. It seemed like such poetic justice that he would use HER car to escape from HER clutches. He’d get Brian to help him return it in the morning.

A spring in his step, Michael approached the front door to turn the knob... and found it locked!!

Oh! Fuck!

Standing still, he glanced about him, seeing if Brian had anything a normal family might have on the porch to *hide* a key. “Under the Welcome Mat... Nope!” He kicked the burbur carpet about. “Flower pot?” He moved to sift through some mini-flower pots along the porch railing. “Nope! Shit!... Wait a minute! Why would Brian have flowers on his porch... cutesy, lavender... ivy-looking...?” Snapping his fingers, Michael reached up to feel along the front door frame, when the knob turned slowly.

Michael had been caught red-handed.

But what came from behind the door was a young boy. He looked like a younger Harry Potter. Studious, round-rimmed glasses; a pair of blue plaid pajamas; a navy blue velour robe with a strip of burgundy chord around the seams and a pair of corduroy slip-on slippers. Wide, bored blue-green eyes stared directly through him.

“Are you *Michael*?”

Wow! He even had the British accent to match.

“Where’s Brian?” Michael felt like a complete doofus.

Leaning on the door jamb, the kid chucked his thumb one house over. “You got the wrong bloody house, mate!”

Michael turned to see Brian’s car parked in front of THIS house. “But... that’s my friend’s car.” He pointed over his shoulder.

The kid shrugged, placing his hands in his robe pockets. He had a Dum-Dum lollipop hanging from his mouth like a *pipe*, taking it out periodically to converse. “How else were we to get the keys to you? Mr. Kinney has nothin’ on his porch.”

“Christ! Yes! No wonder this porch looks so... NOT Brian...” Michael smiled down at the kid, but there was no ounce of *child* left in him. “Thanks... uh,...” He held out his hand for an old-fashioned manly handshake.

“Ethan.” Ethan took Michael’s hand with ease and elegance not usually born of a First Grader. “Ethan Charles Pemberly”

“Hey! I’m a *Charles*, too!” That didn’t phase the kid once. “Michael CHARLES Novotny!” Normal kids found interesting facts pretty cool. Something told him Ethan would be a harder nut to crack. “Thanks, Ethan.” He waved a quick goodbye, stepping off the porch.

“Hey, Romeo!” Ethan gripped the porch pillar, calling out to Michael. “You might need these!”

Ethan tossed a perfect arc in the throw as the keys deftly landed in his cupped hands.

What a smart-ass!

“Go to bed, Ethan.”

“I will. After Masterpiece Theater.” Ethan walked back into his own home.  


 **  
**

**==========tbc...==========**


	3. Chapter 3

Okay...

So this time Michael made it to the right townhouse, using the spare keys he’d thrown on the table six days ago. The second he walked through... he knew he was in the correct place.

Soft music played from a surround sound stereo set up somewhere in the living room. There was now furniture to make it appear like the area it needed to be, but there were boxes still laying around that should have been unpacked.

A fire glowed in the fireplace, sending an orange hue through the darkness. Michael could detect the crackle of a burning log. He loved the smells emanating from the living room. Candles had been lit on a trail, marking the way up the stairs.

On the dining room table sat a picnic basket, a few bottles of wine and matching crystal goblets.

Christ! Brian was pouring it on a little heavy. Michael slid out of his jacket, slipping off his tennis shoes near the huge foyer. He took the step down into the living room area, wandering over to where Brian had placed an array of differently sized pillows. They traced a semi-circle around the fireplace.

As Michael drew near, he noticed a familiar picture on the mantle. In fact, as he glanced down the line, he could follow a time line, of sorts, between Brian and him. Pictures of them in their youths, before their friendship. Pictures of them together IN their friendship. Then a few with Emmett and Ted, Lindsay and Melanie, and Uncle Vic and Debbie. Brian put up one of Gus and him, then had dug around to find a tiny one of Jack and a Baby Brian. That was stuffed in the edge of the picture frame. Next came Michael with Gus, then Brian, Michael and Gus. And lastly came Michael’s daughter’s sonogram.

The frame was new. No broken, cracked glass. What choked Michael up the most was that Brian had left three empty photo frames lining the rest of the mantle. Inside each frame was written what they would represent; ***DADDY and daughter*** , ***DADDY UNCLE and daughter*** , ***A daughter and her DADDIES***.

Michael stepped back to admire the work Brian had accomplish while he’d been gone, lost in his emotional drudge. It made his heart ache to know Brian had never lost hope in *them*, in them ending up together.

A huge portrait frame sat above the mantle. The glare from the fire didn’t allow for good sight of the blank picture frame. The more Michael got closer, the better he could see what Brian had done. He’d sketched, in dark lead pencil, a rendering of a family portrait.

THEIR family portrait...

Good. God ALMIGHTY!

Michael almost lost his grip of the mantle.

Where the hell was Brian? Michael was growing more horny by the minute.

If he thought about it, for a second, everything was just at the point of Brian putting the *show* together. That meant Michael could still catch him unawares.

Jumping over the lit candles, lining the floor, Michael climbed the stairs to reach the second floor. He could faintly hear the muffled noises of water running. The soft music from downstairs was following him up. Somehow Brian had rigged the whole house in sound.

It was very hypnotic, trance music. A *chill out* vibe floating around the walls. Electronic jazz, would be a better way to describe the beat.

One more floor and Michael would reach the Master Suite. He hoped he remembered which door was which. One doorway led to the bedroom itself, but there was one that was an entryway into a sitting room or a huge walk-in closet. The visions were getting fuzzy. Or maybe passion was taking over.

Rubbing his palms together, Michael stood in the lengthy hallway. He placed his pressed hands at his forehead. He closed his eyes to find some *inner* feeling that could help him. If he knew Brian so well, all these years, there was no telling how *linked* they were in a spiritual sense. This would be so cool to find out. Maybe Ben had been a good man to have around for some things. Like Mr. Miagi and the Karate Kid.

Inhaling one breath after another, Michael felt a draw to his right so he turned to face that direction, but there were still too many doors. “Guide my way, please.” If there was some fucked-up God listening, Tibetan or Christian... Mr. Miagi? Michael didn’t care, he just didn’t want his first night with Brian to end in disaster.

“Guide me. Guide my way.” Michael continued to hit his pressed hands to his forehead. He never felt his feet moving, never knew he had put one foot in front of the other, walking down to the OTHER end of the hallway, on the left.

All he did was open his eyes to find himself at a white door. The sounds of the shower were definitely A LOT more clearer. There was a sharp light under the open strip of framework.

Michael slowly turned the knob, peeking his head around the corner. He wanted to make sure he was heading in the right direction. As he quietly stepped in, he felt the luxuriousness of the bathroom overtake him. Damn! Brian had good taste. Calico marble tiles traced the entire room. The master bath was almost as large as his whole apartment.

To his right sat your *normal* bathroom fixtures, kicked up a notch. Dual vanity basins sat atop a cool, pale green marbled counter. On either side were toilets, with privacy doors. Directly in front of him was a whirlpool tub, looked like it could seat about three, or four, people. Two would be fine. He tiptoed toward a wooden door embedded in the wall. Peeking inside, Michael noticed that Brian had his own private sauna, or maybe a steam bath. It wasn’t being used at the moment. Michael had other things on his mind.

As he came around a corner wall he picked up the sounds of the shower he had heard from outside. The calico motif of the tiles were mirrored on this side of the bathroom, as well. The rolling steam from the hot water told him this was where Brian was, so he headed in that direction, chucking every piece of clothing as it got soaked or drenched.

The entire area of the room looked like it was a shower, except there was a specific drop toward one end, like a step down. Combing through the fog, Michael could marginally detect Brian’s tall, willowy shape. From the high ceiling hung what appeared like an upside down chandelier. Ten inches in diameter, it had twelve spray faces spewing water all over the naked beautiful flesh. Finding every curve, every dip of bone to field it’s way down to the tiled floor.

Michael stood back to admire the view. If he listened close enough, he swore he could still hear the music playing. It was very erotic.

Not like Brian Watching wasn’t erotic enough.

All that was left of him, Michael’s clothing, was a pair of waterlogged jeans, unbuttoned down the crotch. The tiny steps he took to enter the shower caked his underwear in moisture. As Brian turned to face the wall, Michael sneaked up to approach him. A feather light touch to his arched back, he felt Brian shiver in delight. He leaned forward to press his lips to the pale skin, lapping up the water.

Now, Michael was completely under the shower head. Facing him, Brian reached down to work off the drenched material from Michael’s body. Tilting his head, he bent to skirt his lips over Michael’s open mouth, biting and sampling the sweet taste. Michael flayed his hands about, afraid to lose his balance as Brian dipped him over his arm.

Those wandering fingers found a place to rest on Brian’s biceps.

Once the jeans and underwear were gone, disposed of to the side, Brian hefted Michael up his tight pulsing body, holding him under the forceful stream of water to fully drown him. It felt like a waterfall, cleanly and peaceful. As Brian slipped Michael, inch by squeaky inch, back down his whip chord length, he leaned back his head to have another taste of Michael. He softly trembled with every effort it took to remain focused on being tender. He wanted to be inside if Michael in every way possible, but they had all the time in the world. Why not simply enjoy the shower.

Michael released first, resting his forehead against Brian’s. His arms encircled the slim column of the sleek neck muscles. His bare feet hadn’t touched the bottom of the shower tile in at least five minutes.

Brian brought them back a few steps to avoid the heavy downpour. “You like?”

“Hell, yeah... and the shower’s not bad, either.”

“Har-har.” Brian picked up Michael, wrapping Michael's legs around his hips. “Check this out. We won’t be out of this baby in days.”

Brian walked them over to the left wall where a series of chrome shower bars were mounted vertically along the tile. He set Michael against the wall, setting his feet on the floor.

Grabbing Michael’s jaw, he nipped at the neck veins, slurping up the excess water. “Close your eyes.” Whispering the words in the curve of Michael’s ear, Brian placed his hands on the area above Michael’s head. “I fixed it to happen every fifteen minutes.”

“Wha-?” Before Michael had a chance to complete the sentence bullet-like shots of water poured from the faucet heads all along the chrome shower bars. They were all at different levels hitting a separate part of the body, depending on a person's height.

Michael got a few in the eye, that’s because he peeked.

Brian remained hunched over Michael’s frame, as the intense water sprays penetrated their weakening muscles. His face coming closer to Michael’s, he lent down to whisper again. “Feel this.” Enveloping Michael in his arms, Brian rolled them around the wall, making sure that the next time they stopped Michael would land plastered on his back.

A mysteriously place jet stream, at perfect ass-level blasted at Michael's backside.

Michael had to giggle, nearly collapsing in Brian’s arms. “That’s sort of erotically ticklish.’ He talked over the water. “I’ve never been violated by a bathroom fixture before.” He saw the hilarity hit Brian, as well.

They dissolved into laughter the middle of the passion-filled shower scene.

The water battle stopped, creating an awkward silence of both men at the end of their snickering.

“Oh, shit... Michael...” Brian stood, at a slight distance. His hand shook as he caressed Michael’s cheek. “I missed you.”

Michel quickly wrapped himself around Brian. The enormity of what he’d done only a few hours ago hit him. He couldn’t hold onto Brian tight enough, the tears surfacing in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry like a baby in front of Brian, but the sobs wouldn’t stop.

“Mikey! HeyHeyHey! It’s alright. Damn! You’ll make me start.”

Michael rubbed at his nose. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t... don’t do that!” Brian grabbed Michael’s hands, unwrapping them and setting him on the floor. “Don’t try to be something with me that you know you’re not. If this... is something we both want... something we both know we need... to be together... I want you to be every stupid, idiotic, foolish thing you can be with me.” Holding both of Michael’s hands to his chest, it drew them together. Standing flesh to flesh, hip to hip. “It’s why I love you, Michael.” Brian’s hand reached out to cup the delicate jaw, his thumb fondling the thickening lips he so desperately wanted to kiss again.

Finding it hard to swallow, Michael widened his eyes slightly. “You LOVE me?”

“Yeah. Why do you find that so hard to believe?” Brian bent forward to pin Michael against the shower wall. “I had such plans for you, Mikey... my sweet, wonderful friend, but you never gave me a definite time. I could barely figure out how to leave you a set of keys to get in.”

“Ethan’s cool. He’s a good kid.”

Brian scrunched his brow in thought. “Think there might be a chance Gus would get like that?”

“Like Ethan?”

“He seemed so adult. Unfeeling and cold. So... so...” Brian couldn’t find the right words.

“Pompous and arrogant? Hmmm...” Michael wondered if Brian knew he could have been talking about his own childhood.

“He’s too grown up, too serious. He needs to have a good best friend to play with. Someone who’s just his exact opposite.”

“Like us?” Michael raised an eyebrow.

Brian continued to rub his face along side of Michael’s cheek, over his jaw and down his neck. “Think Ethan and Gus would get along?”

“Don’t force the issue, Brian. I bet you... I’m pretty certain those boys would hate the sight of each other. Besides, Ethan’s at least three years older then Gus... what would they have to talk about?”

Michael could hear a faint sound as Brian kissed a trail down his body, hoping to begin their night of sexual feasting, skipping all that unnecessary romantic foreplay.

As Brian’s lips were reaching the raven black curls near Michael’s hardened cock, there came a sound of muffled chimes, consistent and strong.

“Brian... have you taken me to Heaven? I swear I hear angels, or bells.” Michael moved his head around to hear better.

Breathing heavy, Brian came up from his knees. “It’s really kind of annoying. I left my cell phone in my robe hanging on the door... but I only brought it in case you called me back.” Naked as the glorious day he was born, Brian strutted from the shower room.

Michael followed a little more slower paced. He was getting some mad ideas from this place. He never knew a shower could be an added bonus to a sexual life. He was standing right next to his soaked jeans and underwear, when he heard his own cell phone go off, still in the back pocket of his jeans. Wow! It still worked after being drowned for twenty minutes. How was he going to explain this to the service provider in order to get another phone?

Bending down, Michael dug around to find his flip phone. “H’lo?” He put one finger in his other ear.

“Mich-... hosp... Lin... baby... Mel... ER!”

“Emmett!” Michael’s phone was shorting out. He shook it once. “Em?! Are you...?”

As clear as a bell, Emmett’s voice came through. “You better get your sweet ass down here Daddy. Your daughter’s trying to make an early appearance.”

Then the phone line died.

“Em? Em?! Emmett?” Michael’s phone went completely dead. “Brian!” Grabbing his wet clothes with him, Michael came up the step to bump into Brian coming directly for him.

Brian grabbed Michael’s biceps to hold him to gravity. “Linds called...”

Michael held out his dripping phone. “Em called...”

 ****You’re gonna be a DADDY!****

**I’m gonna be a DADDY!**

The words said simultaneously, they grinned at the shared idea of what was changing in their lives. Not simply with Michael’s daughter, but between them as friends and, quite possibly in the future, as a couple. The dreaded *boyfriend* relationship Brian  
detested.

Both men held onto one another not believing what they had given up to get to this place, what they had gone through to be still standing here, together.

“I love you.” Michael murmured against the robe around Brian’s naked moist body. He wanted so badly to head straight to the master bedroom. “I finally left home... for good. I’m giving Ben the apartment, since he’ll need a place to live. So, Brian, I’m coming to you... a man with nothing left to give, but himself...”

 **_**... what do you say to that?...**_ **

Grabbing a large bath towel from the warming bars, along the wall, Brian wrapped Michael up in cotton heat. The ends of the towel meeting, Brian tugged Michael’s face closer. Their noses touching, foreheads meshing. “You do have something I need, Michael... you’ve had my heart for far too long... it’s time to share... even stevens...” Brian arched back to stare down at Michael. “Come on, Dad. Let’s get you all snuggly, warm and dry. I might have some clothes you can wear. We need to get you to your daughter... pronto, huh?”

Michael bit at Brian’s lips. “Did I already tell you I loved you?”

“Yeah. Guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you, too.”

“Really?”

“Ah, well... sometimes...” Brian put out hand to show how *iffy* it could be.

“Forgive me?” Michael knew they had totally ignored what they needed to talk about.

Staring intently at Michael, Brian dragged him closer for a delicate sample of his open mouth and tongue. “About what... exactly... I’m kind of hazy... you’ll have to remind me later.”

“Much, much... MUCH later...”

Brian had to force Michael to walk away from the shower room.

Michael gave a sad wave *goodbye* to his new favorite room.  
 **  
**

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

**SIX HOURS LATER...:**

HALEY GRACE NOVOTNY MARCUS PETERSON was born. Three weeks premature...

Michael stood down the end of the hospital corridor, in green scrubs, covered in baby goo, placenta and vaginal secretions he’d rather not talk about. Melanie was fine, in recovery. They had to repair some tears to the uterus and other feminine private areas Michael had zoned out hearing about. His eyes had been trained on the baby bin they wheeled around, holding his new baby girl.

He was trying to gather his wits to face his family in the waiting room. Tears caked his face. He knew he smelled awful. His steps were intentional through the double doors.

Lindsay had already come out here. Gave the wonderful news.

Everyone was now waiting, patiently, for the new proud Papa.

One hand ahead of him, Michael pushed his way through the Maternity Room doors.

He heard Emmett’s gasp. “Oh, Michael! Sweetie!”

Ted stopped him from moving forward. “Don’t! Let him be. Michael, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Teddy.” Michael lifted his solemn face to find Brian’s.

He had eyes only for Brian... no one else.

They locked eyes. Michael forced a grin out.  
 **  
**I need you. Now, Kinney!!****

Brian was already halfway across the room before Michael fainted to the floor. “Michael! No! Come on! You’re good. You’re cool.” He slapped at Michael’s cheeks, holding Michael up in his arms. He moved him to use the wall as a resting place. “All you need is fresh air! Come on!”

“Brian?” Michael lids fluttered open. Tears were falling down Brian’s face. Michael reached out to touch them, like caressing angel’s wings. “You’re crying?”

“You... uh, fainted, Michael.” Brian tried to wipe away the evidence.

Michael shooed that moot point away. “I’m a weak, sentimental fool.”

“You’re MY weak, sentimental fool.” Brian snickered trying to lighten the mood. The people behind them were getting curious, wanting to know how Michael was doing.

"I'm a Daddy." Michael was grinning like an idiot.

"You are SO a *Daddy*!" Brian managed to squeak out.

“She moved me, Brian. She was so... beautiful.” Michael reached out to cup Brian’s cheek. “Like you do to me... every moment we’re together. She’s mine... she’s ours... I love her... even more then before... is that possible?” He put a fist to his chest, like his heart was hurting, pounding loudly in his ears.

Brian nodded, hugging Michael to him. Pressing his lips to Michael’s sweaty hair, he mumbled against the scalp. “I fall more in love with you every day, too. I learn more about myself when I'm with you. How to be a better man, how to be a better father... but most importantly how to be a better person.” Tucking his head, safely, at Michael's shoulder. “I love you, Mikey.”

Michael’s hazy vision was clearing to see the gentle approach of his extended family. There’s was no need to spread any rumors. Let people get their own idea. “Bet I love you more, Kinney.”

“What’s the wager?”

“Um... let’s see... I’m gonna bet ten bucks you can’t make me *come* more times then that shower.” Michael grabbed Brian’s jacket collar, making his meanest offer.

Brian lifted his head, that side-smirk on his lips. “Oooo... a challenge? And only ten bucks? How about we triple the bet, ditch these folks and head on home?”

Michael inhaled a deep breath. “Home... yeah, that sounds very nice.” His eyes caught sight of a nearing body. “Think we can last long enough to say our peace?”

“Together... we can do... anything.”

“Damn straight!”

His arm around Brian’s shoulders, Michael turned to face Emmett. “Hey, Em.” He let go of Brian long enough to squeeze his best friend. “Thanks for coming... and staying.”

“Oh, sweetie... I wouldn’t have missed this Baby Diva's entrance into this world for nothin’.”

Brian and Michael glanced at each other, then looked back at Emmett, nodding their heads.

“Well, there would be ONE thing.” There was no mention of a Barbara Streisand Concert, per usual.

Ted leaned over Emmett to hug Michael, fiercely. “Congratulations, Daddy.”

“Thanks, Teddy.” Michael patted the ruddy cheek, slipping easily back into Brian’s arms.

Emmett and Ted backed up for Uncle Vic’s approach. He could only shake his head, tears rolling down his weathered cheeks. Michael hugged Vic first, then Brian joined in.

“I’m so speechless right now.” Vic kept a hold of both, one hand each of Brian’s and Michael’s. “I’m proud... so proud and happy... for both of you... my boys.” He joined their hands together, stepping back.

Michael looked behind Vic. “You’re stalling, Uncle Vic. Where’s Ma?”

“She wanted to be here, but... Michael, she’s ashamed of what she did. She didn’t mean to cause you such pain.”

“Don’t make excuses for her, Vic. Let Ma apologize on her own.”

“You DO know she sends her love?”

“I do, Vic. I do, but sometimes that isn’t enough.” Michael patted Vic’s forearm. “Tell her I’m happy. She can come see the baby anytime.”

"What about you?"

Michael leaned back against Brian’s strong embrace. “If she needs to find me, she knows where I’ll be.” He noticed the weariness coming over Vic’s shoulders. “It’s not your burden to bear, Vic. It’s gonna take a lot more then *I Love You*s and *I’m Sorry*s to repair the damage she’s done.”

Brian shook Michael. “Hey, she’s your mother, Mikey. Don’t cut her off to spite me.” He kissed Michael’s temple for reassurance.

“What hurts you, Brian, hurts me. If she doesn’t understand our relationship, then I can’t force her to.” Michael gave Vic a final smile before he said his goodbyes. “Come on... I think they’ll let us see her.” He took Brian’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together as he pressed the button for the elevator.

Once they got on, Brian leaned back against the wall, setting Michael in front of him, they were draped over each other.

Brian let his jaw hit Michael’s shoulder blade as he pushed the floor button. “You’d really do this for me. Alienate Debbie?”

Michael never faced Brian once. “Yes.”

“She raised us, Michael. As annoying, obnoxious and shitty as she could be... here we are, huh?”

“Yup.” Michael sniffed once.  
   
“This is hurting you more then you’re letting on?” Brian pulled Michael’s back flush with his chest.

“Yup!” It was a tighter reply, that ended in a clenched sob.

“Oh, Mikey!” Brian shut his eyes, wishing things could have gone differently, but glad they happened the way they did. He vowed to do something to patch up mother and son. “I’m sorry.”

Patting Brian’s hands on his chest, Michael straightened as the elevator reached their floor. “NO time for regrets, Brian. We ONLY look to the future... with each other...” Standing between the elevator doors, Michael held out his hand for Brian to grab. “... and with Gus... and our new daughter... you ready?”

Those eyes of Michael’s glistening with tears were Brian’s undoing. He didn’t take long to think on that reply. “I'd follow you anywhere. Lead on, Mikey.” He took those familiar fingers in his grasp and let Michael's inner *glow* for his baby fill the emptiness he no longer needed to hold onto anymore.

 

 **==========THE END==========**


End file.
